Pond & Holmes
by weepingdahleks
Summary: Meeting in London when they were 9, Amy Pond was interesting to the outcasted Sherlock Holmes when she was introduced to his primary school class at the start of the year 1998, 2 years after Amy met her Raggedy Doctor. The two immediately bonded but lost contact after a few years. When Amy moves into 221B in 2011, she never guessed he would come back after the Weeping Angels.
1. Prologue

September the First, 1998

That was when it seemed that 9-year-old Amelia Pond's life ended, or it was ruined. Her Aunt Sharon was sick of Amelia talking about her 'Raggedy Doctor' to the Leadworth locals and was tired of the reputation of the both of them.

The locals did not take kindly of children who had imaginery friends, or people who needed to see a doctor. Aunt Sharon had sent Amelia to four psychology doctors in the past two years, in attempts to make her seem 'normal'.

Aunt Sharon did indeed love her niece Amelia, that was what she always said when she brought her to a new doctor. "I am doing this because I love you, Amelia." Aunt Sharon would say while patting Amelia's hair and pushing her into the doctor's office.

But no matter what Amelia said to anyone, no one would believe the fairy like tale of her imaginary Doctor. That is, until she met Rory and Mels.

Rory Williams and Mels were her best friends since they were young and when Amelia told them about her Raggedy Doctor, they immediately believed it.

They spent most of their time playing dress up games where Amelia would make Rory dress in the most tattered clothes and Mels would be the villian. Mels was always into it, her voice could be heard from the other side of Leadworth shouting out that Rory would never catch her. While Amelia was Rory's companion, always running after Mels with Amelia clutching his hand tightly. Just as she had wanted to hold her Raggedy Doctor's hand.

Eventually, in 1998, Aunt Sharon had deceided to move to London with Amelia, hoping that she would forget all about that imaginary friend of hers.

Amelia didn't want to leave Rory and Mels, didn't want to leave the house that held so many memories of her Doctor. However, Aunt Sharon was persitent with her choice, and they lugged their luggage to London, with Amelia dreaming about her fish-fingers-and-custard eating Doctor.

Then came her first day of school. Then came Sherlock Holmes.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Sherlock or Doctor Who characters, objects or locations.


	2. Chapter One

1st September 1998

Amelia sat at the back of the cabbie Aunt Sharon had hailed with a sullen frown on her face. That day was her first day of primary school in London and she was defintely not looking forward to it.

Amelia missed Rory and Mels and the house with that broken shed who Aunt Sharon replaced it with a brand new one. She missed the dining room where her and her raggedy doctor sat across from each other.

She even started missing the crack in her wall which seemed to have brought her Doctor to her.

Aunt Sharon was staring at her from the corner of her eye, observing her every movement. Amelia was defintely not excited about school.

The taxi pulled into the driveway of a huge school and stopped the car. Aunt Sharon quickly pecked Amelia on her forehead while saying, "Be good, Amelia." Amelia nodded and got out of the taxi and watched as it pulled away. She knew that Aunt Sharon had meant to not tell anyone about her imaginary friend.

Amelia watched as the taxi drove off and she turned around to face the stairs that led to the entrance. Students around her age were mingling about and Amelia sub-counsciously checked that her uniform was in place before walking up the stairs into the main office.

At the front desk was a young woman with blonde hair, who was writing something down on a piece of paper. Amelia deceided that she was nice enough and smoothen her hair before walking in front of the desk.

The woman glanced up and from her nametag, Amelia learnt that her name was Miss Thompson. Miss Thompson looked at her up and down for a few seconds before she happily chirped, "Hello sweetie, what do you need?"

Amelia cleared her throat before saying in her thick scottish accent, "I'm Amelia Pond, a new student. I was told by my aunt to come here first."

Miss Thompson looked down at the piece of paper and glanced back up at her with a wide smile, "Ah yes, Amelia Pond. Follow me, I'll bring you to your first class."

Miss Thompson got up from her seat and led Amelia out of the glass doors, and walked down the hallway. Her high heels made loud clicking noises as the both of them walked through the empty halls. All the students were in class.

Amelia gripped her school bag tightly as Miss Thompson walked for a few more minutes before stopping at Room 21.

She opened the door and 19 heads looked up from their desks. Amelia nervously peeked into the room. There was 19 children her age and all of them was sitting in pairs, except for one curly haired boy at the back.

Miss Thompson pushed Amelia so that she stood in front of the class. The teacher who was an old man with greg hair stopped writing on the chalkboard.

Miss Thompson grinned cheerily at the class and said, "Welcome to a new school year, children! New year means new students at Coal Hill Primary School! This is Amelia Pond, she's going to be your new classmate."

Amelia glanced at the reactions of her classmates and most of them looked bored. Miss Thompson waited for a few seconds before saying to Amelia, "Amelia, this is your English teacher, Mr Moffat."

Amelia turned to face the grim looking old man and he nodded at her. Miss Thompson gestured for Mr Moffat to continue before walking out of the room.

The air was filled with tension until Mr Moffat said to Amelia, "Amelia, you can sit next to Sherlock Holmes." He pointed at the curly haired boy who locked eyes with her.

Amelia quickly looked away as she felt the soft sniggers of the other students. Mr Moffat snapped angrily at them, "Silence!"

Amelia headed over to the seat beside Sherlock and slid in beside him. She felt his eyes bore into her again and she turned towards him, "What do you want?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows but did not react to Amelia's harsh tone, instead he said, "You're Scottish, aren't you?"

Amelia was taken aback by his correct statement but quickly regained her composure, "What makes you so sure I am?"

Sherlock smirked and replied smartly, "It's so obvious. You have a very thick Scottish accent."

Amelia narrowed her eyes, "Well Mr Detective, what else can you spot?"

Sherlock replied impassivly, "You obviously just recently moved here, maybe just this year. Your Scottish accent hasn't faded a single bit, so I suspect maybe you moved here after June. You grew up most likely in a small English village, as you do not seem used to the crowd. I do not think that you simply moved here by chance, I suspect that either you or maybe your parents are running away from something, most likely to protect you, as I doubt that your parents travelled to London for work, considering your old sneakers which are much too tight for you. Did I get any wrong?"

Amelia's mouth couldn't help drop open. How could a boy her age know so much about her, just by observing her actions and clothing? He was a genius, she thought, but the fesity Amelia Pond would never admit that.

Amelia frowned, "You got everything correct, except for the part about my parents. I don't have parents, my Aunt Sharon brought me here."

Sherlock glanced at her while scribbling notes into his notebook, "What happened to them?"

Amelia glanced down while biting her lip, "I lost them. Aunt Sharon doesn't know what happened to them. They just disappered."

She glanced back up to look at Sherlock expecting a sympathic look like Rory or a pat on the back like Mels, but instead he looked impassive again.

Amelia was a tad bit surprised, but she was glad. She did not want to seem like some injured puppy to him.

Sherlock said to her in the same tone of voice, as if he was bored, "I'm sorry, Amelia Pond. I can also tell you seek people you can trust. I did not ask for your aunt's name or your family history, except when I asked what happened to your parents simply because I was curious."

Sherlock paused to wait for Amelia to say something but she didn't. Sherlock continued talking, "But I can tell you this, Amelia Pond. Your name is like from a fairy tale. Do you have any fairy tales worth telling me, Amelia?"

Amelia hesitated on whether to trust Sherlock with the story of her Raggedy Doctor, but she noticed how everyone avoided looking or glancing at him, and Amelia deceided she could trust Sherlock Holmes.

She opened her mouth to say something when the bell for the next lesson rang. Sherlock picked up his books and said to her, "I'll bring you to your next class, Amelia. You can tell me your fairy tale during recess."

Amelia meekly nodded and picked up her bag and followed Sherlock out of the room. She had to admit, she was interested to learn more of this mysterious genius.


	3. Chapter Two

It was lunchtime and Sherlock had impatiently waited for Amelia to pack her bag and books in her locker. She noticed his foot tapping on the ground as she got out the ham sandwich Aunt Sharon had made for her.

Sherlock had coughed loudly and glared at her and Amelia rolled her eyes. What was his problem? Why was she even hanging out with such a weird guy?

He led her to a place hidden from the usual spot the rest of the students eat and through out the entire walk he did not speak.

Amelia quickened her pace to catch up with Sherlock. She glanced at his emotionless face before saying, "Don't you have any friends?"

Sherlock stared ahead as they walked past the soccer field. A couple of boys looked their way and one of them shouted after them, "Freak!"

Sherlock ignored him and the other boys' laughter and replied to her, "No."

Amelia frowned, "Why not?"

Sherlock scoffed and said, "Obviously, they think that I'm a freak."

The frown on Amelia's face did not leave, "Why? I thought that detective thing that you did was amazing!"

They had reached to a grassy area when Sherlock stopped in his tracks, "Really?"

Sherlock sat down on the ground and gestured for Amelia to do so too. She flopped on the ground and nodded, "Yea, it was cool."

Sherlock opened his black lunchbox that Amelia thought was a briefcase and said, "Most people think it's weird and they tell me to piss off. You're a first. It takes an awful lot of hard work to deduce you."

Amelia unwrapped the spring foil covering her sandwich, "Really?"

Sherlock gave a tiny, tiny smile and poked a straw through his juice pouch, "No."

Amelia huffed and took a bite of her sandwich. She and Sherlock settled into a comfortable silence when he asked her, "Do you have any friends? Back home?"

Amelia laid on her back on the grassy floor, "Yeap. Mels and Rory. We used to play dress up games all the time. I didn't have any friends here, not until now."

Sherlock sipped his juice, "Who is that?"

Amelia paused and stared up at the blue sky, "You."

She looked at Sherlock and to her dismay, saw a small smile form on his face. However, it was gone in a second when he realised that she had seen it and he said, "That's nice."

They settled into silence again and a few minutes later Sherlock spoke up, "Do you have any other stories?"

Amelia debated whether to tell him about the story of her Raggedy Man and she decided to, even though he was a bit mean.

She sat up straight and said, "When I was 7, I was praying to Santa about a crack in my wall. Usually there's cracks everywhere, but this crack scared me. It was late and Aunt Sharon was sleeping. I had wished for a policeman to come and fix the crack, and right after that this police box crashed landed into my shed."

Amelia glanced at Sherlock to say something but all he did was raise his eyebrows slightly.

She continued on, "I went out to take a look and the shed was smashed. I brought a flash light down with me and the doors were open. Orange light shone out of it and this weird man came out of it. He was dressed in raggedy clothes, which was where the term Raggedy Doctor had come. He said he was the Doctor and he felt abit peckish. So I brought him into my kitchen and he ate fish fingers dipped inside custard. I told him about the crack in my wall and he went to investigate it. I asked him if he was the policeman that Santa had sent but he didn't know what was I talking about. He used this pen thingy that made a weird noise and pointed at it and, this giant eyeball was staring at us."

Sherlock sat up straight, with his eyebrows raised, "I believe everything except for the eyeball. That's impossible."

Amelia glared furiously at him and snapped, "Let me finish! And I saw it with my own eyes! It said it was looking for Prisoner Zero then the Doctor used the pen thingy to close the crack. It never bothered me again. He told me to pack my things because he was going to take me on an adventure while he did something with the blue box, so I did. I waited and waited for him but he never came back. For 2 years. I told Aunt Sharon but she brought me to 4 psycharits for my condition. I bit all of them."

Sherlock sniggered, "You bit them? Why?"

Amelia huffed and folded her arms across her chest, "They said my Raggedy Man wasn't real. I know he was real. The shed even broke and had to be replaced."

Sherlock threw his empty juice box to the side and said, "Well yes, that's probably real. But the eyeball? And Prisoner Zero? Those can't be real, because they're impossible."

Amelia scowled at him and said, "Say it's impossible all you want, Sherlock Holmes. But when my Raggedy Man comes back, I'll make sure to visit you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and nodded, "Yeah yeah. If it makes you feel better I used to pretend that I was pirate when I was young. With my dog, Redbeard. His health isn't doing too good these days but I'm sure he will pull through."

Amelia frowned at the mention of his sick dog. She wasn't too much of an animal person but she still liked them alot, "Sorry about your dog. A pirate? And you still mocked me about my Raggedy Man?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes again, "Yes I wanted to be a pirate and I still do. I call myself Bootstrap Bill, and Redbeard would be my companion."

Amelia raised her eyebrows while lying back down on the grass, Sherlock following suit. She said, "Where did the Bill come from?"

Sherlock stared up at the sky, "My parents always calls me that. But I would prefer for you to call me Sherlock."

Amelia was about to say something when the bell rang. Sherlock got up and picked up his lunchbox, "Hurry up. Next lesson is Science, and our teacher is Mr Gatiss. You wouldn't want to be late."

Amelia huffed again and struggled to get up. She brushed the grass off her back and she glanced at him, "Were you going to help me up?"

Sherlock turned around and began walking away, "No."

Sherlock felt Amelia's scowl bore into his back, but she caught up with him anyway. He didn't know much about friendship, but he hoped that this one lasted.


	4. Chapter Three

It was September the First, 1999. A year after Amelia and Sherlock became friends.

The both of them were sitting in their usual spot for lunch. Sherlock drinking his usual juice box and Amelia with her sandwich wrapped in tin foil.

Amelia coughed loudly and Sherlock looked at her in mock concern, "My dear Amelia, whatever is the matter?"

Amelia huffed at his sarcastic tone and folded her arms across her chest, "Today is our one year anniversary of being friends."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and checked his watch for the time, "Oh yes, it is. I brought something for you since I guessed you were the sort of person to remember dates." He opened his lunchbox again and gave Amelia one of his juice boxes.

Amelia took it from him with a surprised look and poked the straw through. She did not expect Sherlock to even remember the date, least he gave her something.

Amelia was about to thank Sherlock when he said, "Don't be so flattered. I have dozens of those back at home."

Amelia scoffed and replied back to him, "Yeah, I guessed. But thanks anyway. I didn't get you anything."

Sherlock shrugged at her and said, "You don't have to get me anything. No one does." Amelia didn't understand the meaning of the last sentence, but didn't question it. Knowing Sherlock for one year done her good, since she knew that he did not like to be questioned. _But what did he mean by no one gets him?_

1st September 2000. Two years after Sherlock and Amelia met.

The pair once again made their way to their usual lunch spot. This time, Amelia was ready. She had managed to sneak an apple from the fruit bowl on her way to school that morning. She hoped that Sherlock would like her little gift, but doubted so because he literally had everything in his life. Parents, a brother, a pet and loads of money.

Amelia usually wasn't envious of Sherlock, but she was lately. Maybe she was just going through puberty. Sherlock's hair got curlier as he got older, and Amelia was sure it was going to become a mop on his head by the time he reached his teens.

The both of them sat down on a flat stone and opened their lunchboxes. Sherlock got out two juice boxes and passed one to Amelia, and she got out two red apples and passed one to him. The both of them nodded at each other as a word of thanks. Amelia bit into the apple, once again reminded of her Raggedy Doctor.

Ever since she had given Sherlock the details of his blue box, he said it was a police box from the 1960s'. "Maybe he's a time traveller." He had said. But Amelia knew that time travel was defintely not real, as much as she wanted it to be.

Since then, Sherlock had promised her to look out for a blue police box, and she should look out for it too. Amelia was touched by Sherlock's rare compassion, but he had simply said he was curious about this mysterious man.

At the end of lunchtime, Sherlock had said to Amelia, "Thank you for the apple." Amelia shrugged and replied simply, "Oh, it's okay."

The two walked in silence for a few moments when Sherlock spoke again to her, "Thank you, Amelia." Amelia gave a confused look to Sherlock, "Thank you for what?"

He kept quiet for a second before saying, "For being my friend."

She gave him a smile and said, "It's okay. I like being your friend." And out of the corner of her eye, Amelia swore he had a tiny smile on his face.

1st September 2003. 5 years since Sherlock and Amelia met.

By that time, they were both fourteen. In Amelia's letters to Rory and Mels, she had told them about Sherlock. Mels wanted to know if he was cute, which Amelia ignored that question.

However, Rory wrote in scrambled letters that she should be careful of him, just in case he breaks her heart or something. Which was stupid, Amelia Pond did not feel any romantic feelings for Sherlock Holmes. She only cared about him in a friendly way, the way that best friends do.

But that was not what the other kids at school thought.

They thought that two teenagers who are of a different gender hanging out together _defintely _meant that they were dating. Sherlock had calmly told them multiple times that he and Amelia were _not dating_ while she angrily flipped them off multiple times when the girls teased her about 'dating' a freak.

First off, she had told them, Sherlock is not a freak, second off, she was _defintely not dating him_. And she had shoved her middle finger in their faces and marched off.

That same year, her Aunt Sharon told her that after Year 8 finished they were moving back to Leadworth.

Aunt Sharon had said that she had missed Leadworth terribly, and their fiancies weren't doing so good lately. Amelia was furious. She did not want to leave Sherlock alone with all those horribly mean bullies. On the first day of school, Amelia had told Sherlock the news, and he had reacted better than she thought.

All he did was raise an eyebrows and said, "Really?" But he did seem gloomier that day. During lunchtime, Amelia was pacing up and down the grassy land, ranting and ranting and ranting.

"How could she do this? She was the one who wanted to come to London, not me! She thinks that I don't have friends here, when I do!"

And on she went, with Sherlock sitting on the usual flat stone, reading a book. Throughout the year, his smart and sometimes mean comments to Amelia lessened, and before she knew it, he was treating her, _kindly._

The last day of school, 2003. The last day of Amelia Pond and Sherlock Holmes.

They sat at their hiding place in comfortable silence, with Amelia pouring out her feelings to Sherlock, sometimes shedding a few tears. "Oh Sherlock, I'll miss you so much! We'll write to each other, yeah?"

Sherlock nodded and grabbed something from his pocket and handed it to Amelia. She held it out in her hand and gasped, it was a beautiful teardrop glass necklace. Amelia stared at Sherlock with an open mouth while he ruffled his hair, seemingly embarrassed.

She hurridly wore it around her neck and flung her arms around him, muttering, "Thank you so much." Amelia felt him take a few seconds to respond and wrapped his arms around her. They pulled apart after a few moments.

Sherlock stared at her with such intensity with his icy blue eyes that Amelia shivered, wondering what did he want. Suddenly, he gripped her face with his hands and pulled her closer towards him. She gasped and threw her arms at whatever could stabilize her, they landed on Sherlock's shoulders.

The both of them froze, as if they were stuck in time. Sherlock almost looked like he wanted to do something when the bell rang. He let Amelia go, and that was the end of Amelia Pond and Sherlock Holmes.


	5. Chapter Four

It was 2011.

John Watson was walking back to 221B, the flat he shared with the world's only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes.

John had wanted to have a warm glass of milk before going to sleep but when he opened up the fridge, there was... there was... a bloody human head inside. He had cussed at the top of his lungs, and marched over to Sherlock, who was in his pajamas and a blue bath robe and laying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

John guessed that he was thinking of Moriarty, who was he and what was his purpose of hunting him, Sherlock down.

However, when John came back from the shops with a carton of milk and a few other groceries, he heard gunshots from the landing. Almost immediately, he dropped the two plastic bags and hurried up the stairs. John heard the gunshots coming from his flat.

He ran through the door, expecting Moriarty gunning Sherlock down, but instead Sherlock was using a gun to shoot at the wall.

John gaped, "Sherlock! What are you doing?"

Sherlock shot again as he said, "Bored!"

John frowned, "Bored?!"

Sherlock nodded and twisted his body in bizarre shapes and shot at the wall again, "I'm bored!"

John shook his head and moved towards Sherlock, "Sherlock! Stop it, Mrs Hudson will include this in our monthly rent."

Sherlock angrily dumped the gun onto the coffee table and turned to face John, "But I'm bored! We have no case!"

John crossed his arms across his chest, "We just solved a case!"

Sherlock sighed, "Yes, John, we did. Amazing that you just realised. But I'm bored!"

John scowled, "Then go to sleep! If you aren't, I am. I have work at the clinic tomorrow."

Sherlock looked at John in alarm, "What clinic? What job?"

John groaned in absolute frustration, when does Sherlock actually listen to him? He said, "The job I got to get us some money!"

Sherlock thought for a while and sprang up from his seat on the chair, "No. You aren't going."

John glared at Sherlock and walked towards his room, "Yes, Sherlock. I am, and no questions." And he closed the door to his room.

John stretched his arms as the patient walked out of the consulting room. It was half an hour till he got off work and he only had one patient left.

He pressed the button on his desk to indicate that the next person to come in. John got ready his equipment when a young woman walked in. She had firey red ginger hair, it was shoulder length and she had a beige hat on her head. She also wore a long brown coat shaped like a dress. She looked like she just came out of the 1960s.

John opened up a new patient's form on his computer and asked the lady, "Hello, how are you?"

The lady gave him a weak smile and repiled, "Fine. What about you?"

John noticed how she had slight bags under her eyes, showing that she does not get enough sleep. He looked at her ,"Great, thank you? What's your name?"

The lady bit her lip before saying, "Amy Pond."

John proceeded to ask her for her details and typed them out in the computer. After he was done, he saved it to the clinic's database.

He asked her, "Amy, what are you here for?"

Amy played with fingers while saying, "I just moved here. From Leadworth. The landlady of my apartment said I need to see the doctor before I could buy to prove that I had a clean bill of health."

John nodded and stood up from his chair, he noted that Amy still had her luggage with her. He showed her to the examination room, "I'll just run some basic tests on you. And are you fine with some shots to prevent chicken pox, those sorts of things? I won't add it to your bill."

John watched as Amy thought for a while before nodding. After the tests and the shots were done, John and Amy sat in their doctor-patient seats. John said to her with a smile, "The results should come out in a few minutes. Would you like a cup of water, or a cuppa?"

Amy smiled warmly at John, "A glass of coffee is fine." John hurried to his coffee maker and made a cup for Amy and poured some water for himself from a jug.

He set the cup of coffee down on the table, when to his horror it fell onto Amy. She gasped and immediately stood up while looking at the stain on her brown coat. John rushed to get some tissues and passed them to her, "Oh no, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Amy used the tissues to pat on the damp stain gently as she said, "Oh, it's alright."

John stammered, his habit when he screwed up, "I need to do something for you, that was so clumsy of me."

To John's dismay, Amy giggled as she tossed the tissues into the bin, "No, Dr Watson. It's okay. You don't have to do anything for me."

John failed his hands everywhere, "No, no, I insist. That coat looks awfully expensive. I need to pay you back or something."

As soon as he said that, Amy looked as if she had just remembered something. She glanced at her coat and John watched as a sad look overcame her facial features, "Oh right. The coat."

John nervously bit his lip, seeing Amy's sad look in her eyes, "Oh dear, I knew it. Does that coat have sentimental value or something? Oh no, it's all my fault."

John saw Amy's lower lips tremble as she unsteadily said, "Dr Watson, it's okay."

But according to her tone of her voice it wasn't. She sounded like she was about to cry any minute. John suggested, "How about I take you out to dinner? There's a nice Chinese place nearby, plus it's already half past six. How about that?"

Amy bit her lip again, "Well... Okay then. Only dinner though." John grinned and nodded, but ran towards the examination room when the printer sounded out a 'ping', indicating that Amy's test results were here.

Amy and John was sitting in the dimly lit Chinese restaurant near his clinic. After ordering their food, they settled into a comfortable silence. Amy spoke up, "Dr Watson, are you sure it's okay with you? Paying for it all? We can split it if you want."

John shooked his head, "No it's okay, completely fine with me, And please call me John." Amy nodded and muttered his name a few times under her breath, to John's amusement.

John was about to ask Amy something when her phone rang. She sprang up as she looked at the caller ID. Amy smiled apologetically to John, "Sorry, I need to take this call outside." John nodded and watched as she went out of the restaurant, her brown high heels clicking against the ground. John looked at her as her smile changed to a frown, until she looked like she was screaming at the person down the line. Amy was waving her hands around wildly, and after a few minutes, she hung up and stormed back inside.

John glanced at her, "What's wrong?" Amy launched into a great rant, "That was my good for nothing landlady. Apparently she had already sold the apartment to someone else, because that someone else already emailed her the health reports. So now, I got no where to live. That son of a bitch!" Some other customers stared at her because of her shouting and vulgar language.

John raised his eyebrows, "Wait, you have no place to live?"

Amy scowled, "Yes! I don't have a job either. I have a decent amount of money but it will all run out quickly if I just stay in a hotel!"

John thought. There was a room in his and Sherlock's flat, the door was always closed and when John asked him about it, Sherlock said it was a third bedroom but he used it for storage, and it was very messy . But John was sure he could tidy it up quickly. He leaned forward, "Amy, I have a room in my flat, my flat which I share with someone else. You can live with us! We won't bother you or anything."

Amy stared at him in surprise at his offer and said, "I'm not sure..."

John smiled at Amy, "You can come look at it tomorrow morning. If you don't like it, it's okay. I can help you find another flat."

Amy stared of in space for a few moments, most likely thinking, when she replied, "Okay, deal. I'll look at it tomorrow. I'll just stay at a hotel tonight."

John grinned happily, finally he knew someone as sane as him, "Sure! I'll give you my number."

As soon as they exchanged their numbers, their food came and the both of them settled down to eat. Of course, John Watson had an ulterior motive. He also wanted to introduce her to Sherlock, maybe he could date her and stop firing bullets at the wall.


	6. Chapter Five

John had just stepped into 221B after his dinner 'date' with Amy when he saw Sherlock still lying on the couch.

John frowned and narrowed his eyes, "Were you... Were you sitting there for the whole day?"

Sherlock crossed his arms across his chest and said, annoyed, "I asked you to pass me your phone."

John sounded confused as he said, "What? When?"

Sherlock scoffed and sat up straight, "An hour ago."

John's mouth dropped open from shock when he heard Sherlock's answer, "An hour ago?! I was out!"

Sherlock sighed and stood up from the couch and paced up and down in his dressing gown. Sometimes Sherlock Holmes really annoyed John Watson. He would randomly shout for things when he wasn't even there!

Sherlock said, "Oh yes, where were you?"

John rolled his eyes and moved towards the teapot to make a cup of tea, "I was out, and had dinner with a nice young lady. I offered her to stay at our flat, by the way."

Sherlock was about to play his violin when he heard John's last sentence, "Wait, you offered what?"

John sighed as lifted the teapot, seeing that it was already full of liquid. From the aroma, he guessed it was tea. John replied, "She had just moved to London and has no where to stay! Please Sherlock, just be kind for once. She's coming over tomorrow to check it out."

Sherlock scoffed again and played his violin furiously, "Fine."

John nodded at him and open the lid of the teapot. It was full of tea alright, but it had floating human eyeballs in it, "Sherlock!"

John was anxiously waiting for Amy the next morning. He was fidgeting on the couch and Sherlock was playing his violin again.

John heard the doorbell ring and he hastily stood up and said to Sherlock, "I'll go ring her in." He hurried out of the door but just before he left, Sherlock deduced him. John was definitely interested in this mysterious woman, only slightly though.

Sherlock grunted and went back to playing his violin. He had actually bothered to wear his shirt and trousers.

He heard chattering downstairs, and a very familiar voice. Wait... That was the voice of... No, Sherlock shook his head to erase his thoughts. That's stupid. Amelia Pond is gone now. He had not received any letters from her.

Sherlock played his violin rather furiously now as he heard John and that woman walk up the stairs. He heard a luggage dragging up the stairs, that woman must be very egar.

Finally, the both of them came in. Sherlock heard John say, "Well Amy, here it is. That's my flatmate, he likes to play the violin rather roughly. Sherlock, introduce yourself."

Sherlock dumped his violin on the couch and turned to face them. His heart almost stopped. The woman was wearing a woolly beret, she had fiery red hair, just like Amelia Pond. She was wearing a dark blue coat with a beige handbag. The woman had an exact same look on her face as she took him in. She finally opened her mouth.

"Sherlock?"

"Amelia?"

Amy's mouth dropped open as she lost her grip on her small luggage. She dashed towards Sherlock Holmes, her Sherlock Holmes, and hugged him.

Sherlock froze for a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around her waist. They stayed that way for a few moments before letting go.

John was looking at them, brows furred together, "Am I missing something?"

Amy giggled and shook her head, "No John. Me and Sherlock were childhood friends. We lost contact after I moved back to Leadworth." She then turned towards Sherlock and slapped him. Hard on the cheek. The only other person to slap him was Molly.

Sherlock held his cheek in pain, "Amelia! What did you do that for?"

Amy glared at him and said, "I was sending letters to you Sherlock Holmes! But you never repiled them, did you? I thought you moved away but the letters were never sent back! You bastard didn't even return my phone calls! And it's Amy, not Amelia!"

Sherlock's mouth dropped open. Letters? What letters? He had not received any letters of any sort from her! He replied her calmly, "Amy, I didn't receive any letters."

Amy stopped glaring at Sherlock and said, "Really?" Sherlock nodded and Amy went to hug him again.

A second passed before John coughed uncomfortably, "Uh, Amy, do you want to see the spare room?"

Amy smiled at John and nodded. She held her luggage and wheeled it behind John who brought her to the third room, the room which was always locked.

John opened the door, and Amy went in, followed by Sherlock. John gasped. The room wasn't a storage room, it wasn't even messy. It's walls were painted a pastel blue and had bed, a desk and a bookshelf in it.

John turned to Sherlock and said, "You said it was messy?" Sherlock scoffed for the third time, "I lied."

Amy had place her luggage at the foot of the bed and she was looking at the room in awe. She spun around and exclaimed happily, "I love it!"

John swore he saw Sherlock smile. He said, "Well, I'm glad you like it. Shall we go and-"

Sherlock cut him off, "Amy, is that a wedding ring?" He gestured to Amy's left hand, which was wearing a wedding ring.

Almost immediately, the happy grin was wiped from her face. John saw her sudden change in emotions and hissed at Sherlock, "Sherlock! We'll talk about that later."

Amy bit her lip and slowly took the gold ring off and placed it on her desk. She said to the both of them, "I have to tell you guys something."


	7. Chapter Six

The three of them settled into the dining chairs that Sherlock and John rarely used. Sherlock crossed his hands while saying to Amy, "So, Amelia. What have you been doing the past eight years?"

Amy glanced at John before leaning forward and replying to Sherlock, "He came back."

Sherlock was confused for a moment before understanding. He leaned forward too and said, "Your Raggedy Doctor came back?" Amy nodded to confirm his suspicions. John was glancing at the both of them and said, sounding annoyed, "What are you guys on about? And who is Amy's Raggedy Doctor?"

Sherlock leaned back and nodded at Amy, "John, she has a big story to tell you." Amy began to tell John how she met The Doctor when she was seven, and about the crack in the wall that swallowed up her parents, and how she had been praying to Santa for a police man to come and fix the crack. She proceeded to say about the police box, and The Doctor himself and his ragged clothes, and how he opened the crack and an eyeball was staring back at them, asking for a Prisoner Zero.

John cracked up at the eyeball, "A bloody eyeball was staring at you? A _bloody eyeball?_" He waited for Sherlock to maybe say something smart but he stayed silent.

Amy said calmly, "Yes, an eyeball, not bloody I'm afraid." She continued on about how said that he would take her on a journey to see the stars, and to wait five minutes for him, but he never came back. John sat up straight, "But he came back?"

Amy's eyes widened with excitement, "Yes, he did. He came back. For me."

Sherlock suddenly leaned forward, "He came back? He actually came back?" Amy nodded hurridly. Sherlock nodded and leaned back, "Okay, continue."

Amy smiled and she said, "It was 4 years ago. I was nineteen then. I never went to university, I was a kissogram. I heard his police box landing, so I got ready to meet him. But he broke into my bloody house, and I hit him with a cricket bat. I mean, I did it immediately, I couldn't help me. Anyways, I used one of my handcuffs and hooked him up to my heater. I was dressed in my kissogram police outfit, since I was about to go out, not that I wore that on purpose. And he was wearing the same clothes, and he looked like he didn't age. Not one wrinkle was on his face. Twelve years passed and he did not grow old, weird huh? Anyways, he didn't know it was me, the little Amelia Pond, so I decided not to tell him and pretend to be an actual cop. Then, he told me that there was six doors on that floor, which was stupid since I knew that there were only five. But I looked out of the corner of my eye, and there was _it,_ the sixth door. He told me not to go in, but I still did anyway. And the supposed Prisoner Zero was in that room, he was living in my freaking house for twelve years and I never knew!"

Amy chattered on and on about what happened next, how Prisoner Zero was a shape-shifting alien and it went out to attack her and The Doctor. However, when Amy came to the part where Rory came in, Sherlock cut her off, "Rory? The Rory you told me that played dressup games with you and Mels?"

Amy rolled her eyes at her being cut off by Sherlock Holmes and snapped at him out of habit, "Yes that Rory pay attention. I was dating him at that time." And then she continued on about her story and John thought he saw Sherlock tense up when Amy said she was dating Rory, but maybe it was just a trick of the light.

Finally, Amy finished her story with, "But by the time me and Rory got into the front yard, the police bxo was already flying off. He left without me again."

Sherlock said, "And you never saw him again?"

To his surprise, Amy shook her head and gave him and John a small smile, "No. I did see him again. He came back again. It was two years later, I was twenty one. He came back for me on the night before my wedding."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "Wedding? Who were you getting married to?"

Amy scoffed, "Rory, of course!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "That's a surprise. You described him like he was a bulbbering idiot."

Amy flushed with rage, "He isn't an idot!"

Sherlock sighed and leaned back in his chair, "Okay. I'm sorry Amy."

John studided the both of them carefully. Was Sherlock Holmes, _jealous?_


	8. Chapter Seven

Amy sighed and continued, "He came, and took me on so many adventures." She proceeded to tell Sherlock and John about all of her journeys with The Doctor in great detail. John took a quick glance at Sherlock and caught him staring at Amy.

Sherlock liked looking at her. Sometime she could see traces of the young Amelia Pond, who told him about her Doctor. Then it was gone in a flash. The current Amy Pond was a kissogram, had a husband and has been on more adventures then he and John could ever go. He loved the sparkle in her eyes, when she spoke about Queen Liz, the Daleks and the last Star Whale she saved. It wasn't long before Sherlock realised that he was looking at her intensely, and John and Amy were glancing at him weirdly.

Amy said with a concerned look on her face, "Sherlock, are you okay?"

Sherlock broke out of his trance and saw John giving him a sly smile. He hoped that he didn't have a dreamy look on his face. He nodded and crossed his arms, "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Continue."

Amy smiled and said, "Then he brought me back to that same night. Can you believe it? It was as if no time had passed. And then, well, I kind of kissed him."

John raised his eyebrows, "Oh, as in like, a thank you kiss? Right?"

Amy bit her lip and hesitated before saying, "No..."

Sherlock deduced her. Amy's face had gone a deep red, as deep as her hair. She was playing with her fingers and bitting her lip. He came to a conclusion and said, "She did not kiss him as a thank you. Not a tiny peck on the cheek or the lips. She's ashamed of that kiss. Feels that it was wrong, probably done it on impulse. That's way she can't say it out so easily. That kiss, was full of lust and passion. You forgot all about your fiancé at that moment, right Amy? And The Doctor rejected you, leaving you heartbroken, am I right? Amelia Pond?"

By the time Sherlock finished, Amy was gripping the cup of water that John had poured for her with watery eyes. Her bottom lip was wobbling and she shouted at Sherlock as she threw the water at him, "You don't know anything, Sherlock Holmes!" Amy rushed into her room, crying.

John gasped and glared at Sherlock, "Sherlock! You cock! How could you do that?"

Sherlock frowned as he muttered to himself, "She's a lot more sensitive this time, what had happened?"

John hissed at him, "I'm going to see her." He got up but before he could even walk one step, Sherlock had jumped up and pushed John back into his chair, "No, I need to apologise." John was about to protest was Sherlock gave him the Look. Defeated, John slumped back in his chair.

Sherlock slowly pushed open the door to Amy's room. He poked his head in and saw her curled up on her bed, sobbing into a pillow. He frowned at her state and closed the door, and coughed, alerting her of his presence.

Amy looked up and Sherlock saw mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen. She scowled, seeing him. She said hoarsely, "What do you want?"

Sherlock nervously sat beside her on the bed. Amy sat up straight and brought the pillow to her chest, hugging it. He didn't know where to begin. Sherlock said, "Amy are you-" He was cut off when Amy reached over and hugged him.

Sherlock fumbled around for a bit before finally hugging her back. He felt Amy cry again, her tears soaking his white shirt. Sherlock used his hand to rub up and down her back, when he heard her say through muffled sobs, "I miss them s-so m-much."

Sherlock held Amy in front of him. Her hair was slightly messed up and her beret had fallen somewhere in the room. He asked her, surprisingly gently, "What's wrong, Amy? Who do you miss?"

Amy cried again as she held onto Sherlock's arms, and she replied shakingly, "D-Doctor and R-R-Rory." Ah, Sherlock thought, that explained the missing wedding ring and her being here.

Sherlock stroked her cheek, which shocked him. It was so out of his character and normal behaviour, but this was Amelia Pond. She had seen him when he was with Redbeard. When he was still Bootstrap Bill. When Redbeard was still alive. And she was allowing him to see her now, all broken up in the inside, her breaking down, and he had caused this. With that stupid deduction.

Sherlock said calmly, "What happened to them?" Amy stopped crying and removed herself from Sherlock's arms and sat up. She replied, "I need to tell you. From the beginning."

Amy began, "The Doctor had brought Rory along to travel. He had told him about the kiss, and Rory was angry. Oh, he was so angry. The Doctor brought us to ancient Venice, to treat it as our honeymoon. Me and Rory almost broke it off, but I convinced him otherwise. Of course during that trip, we bumped into vampires. But that's another story. So it became the three of us. Travelling, having adventures. And River Song came along." Amy had told Sherlock and John about River being her daughter, even though she wasn't very sure that they believed her about that.

She continued, "Eventually, me and Rory got married, had a kid. That's where River came from. Then to make things short, The Doctor left us alone for a while to settle into our married life, and I found out that I was infertile. I could never have kids. Rory was distraught. He always wanted kids. Since he was young. So that led to arguments, and more arguments. Those led to a divorce."

Amy said, "But The Doctor came back, and took us to the Dalek Asylum, to solve some things. Once again, long story short, me and Rory got back together. After a few more interesting journeys, it happened. When the Angels took Manhattan."

Amy had told Sherlock and John all about the Weeping Angels and it scared the both of them quite a bit, even Sherlock. She started up, "Rory was zapped back in time. I know I should have went with him, but I couldn't. He caused me so much pain, so I went back to the Doctor. But we visited him. He understood what I did and let me go. A few months later, I left the Doctor. That's why I'm here. I couldn't go back to Leadworth."

Sherlock sighed, "Oh Amelia. My Amelia." He pulled her into an embrace again, and that was how they stayed, until John found them an hour later.


	9. Chapter Eight

The three of them, Sherlock, John and Amy were at the cafe downstairs, Speedy's. They were having their lunch there. Sherlock had not spoken about the incident with Rory to John, he knew Amy wanted it to be a secret between them so Amy just told him that she broke up with Rory. Currently, she was ravenously devouring her bacon sandwich, as John sipped his tea and Sherlock watched the both of them, his fingers laced together.

John broke the silence, "So, Amy, you hungry?" Amy looked up in surprise at him and quickly swallowed the food in her mouth.

She gave him a tiny smile, "Yeap. Didn't eat breakfast this morning." John nodded and chuckled softly to himself. They settled into comfortable silence once more until Sherlock suddenly sat up straight and said to Amy, "You don't have a job?"

Amy ate the last of her sandwich and nodded while saying, "Yeah, I just got here, didn't I?" Her Scottish accent was strong. She spoke again, not waiting for Sherlock to reply, "Do you know any places? For me to sign up for one? I was thinking about being a model or-"

Sherlock cut her off while narrowing his eyes, "No." Amy jerked up in surprise, he could tell not many people dared to cut her off, "Why not?" He smirked, which surprised John abit, and replied, "You are not going to get a job."

Amy glared at him while folding her eyes and retorted back, "_Excuse me?_ Why not? You don't have a job, and John's only a doctor. I don't think all three of us can survive on his paycheck."

The smart smirk stayed on Sherlock's face as he counterattacked, "I do have a job." Amy fake laughed, "Really? What is it?" John found them very amusing. They had contrasting personalities, but at the same time they balanced each other out. It was honestly very funny, they were like a tennis match.

Sherlock took a quick glance at John before proudly saying, "I am a consulting detective. John is my assistant." John muttered under his breath, "The only one in the world." Sherlock gave John the Look again and turned to face Amy. She looked at him, confused, "What the hell is a _consulting_ detective? I never heard of that before!"

Sherlock scoffed and said in the same cocky tone, "I invented the job. The police come to me for help when they're stuck. Which is all the time." John snickered, he was trying to hard to impress Amy, it was embarrassing. Amy rolled her eyes, "I bet you're fibbing."

Sherlock gasped in mock surprise, "Oh no! Of course I'm not lying, what would I gain out of lying to you? Hm?" Amy smirked and flipped her hair as she hissed, "My respect."

John saw Sherlock actually lose his composure there, but within seconds he covered it up. Amy, seeing Sherlock's facial expression, she laughed and said, "Ok, ok. I believe you. What wouldn't I believe when I met freaking Daleks! Anyways, you always had my respect, Sherlock."

To John's dismay, he swore he saw Sherlock's cheeks turn a little bit pink. Amy placed her elbows up on the table and placed her chin on her hands, "Tell me about the cases you solve, Mr Detective."

For the next few hours, Sherlock and John, mostly John though, told Amy about the cases that they encountered and even some unsolved ones. The only thing they didn't tell her about was Moriarty. They didn't want to put her in danger.

Amy was smiling by the time they finished, "Wow Sherlock. I always thought you'll end up being a pirate."

John took a sip of his third cup of tea and said, "Pirate?" Amy giggled and nodded, she also had ordered herself a coffee, "Yeap. He wanted to be one when he was young. With his dog." John spat his tea back into his cup and bursted out laughing. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "Using me as a source for entertainment?"

Amy grinned at him and reached over and patted him on the shoulder, "Don't take it to heart Sherlock." She got up and stretched, "I'm going out to shop for new clothes and stuff. Don't wait up!" John nodded and him and Sherlock got up from their seats too. Just before Amy left, Sherlock called out, "Wait, Amy!"

She turned around, her ginger hair shining in the afternoon sun, "Yeah?" Sherlock held out his iPhone, "Your number." John raised his eyebrows in surprise and gave Sherlock a sly smile. He shot a glare at him and watched as Amy dialed her number into his contact list before passing it back to him. She waved at the both of them before hailing a taxi, "See you guys later!"

It was nine in the evening. Amy had been out shopping since three in the afternoon and her hands were filled with bags. She was standing by the edge of the street, attempting to hail a taxi. She cussed under her breath as another taxi zoomed past her. Great, she thought, at this rate I'll never get home.

Home. Funny, she was already considering 221B Baker Street her home. It was understandable, since she only knew John and Sherlock in London. But it was amusing, how quickly she came to accept it as her home. Amy gussed that a lifetime of adventures was enough to make her believe that everywhere is home.

But Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes was a mystery. She knew him since they were young but he changed so much. He still believed in her tales of the Doctor of course, but it just seemed like a piece of him was missing. He seemed reluctant to mention about Bootstrap Bill and Redbeard. Did that mean he had not told John anything about his childhood? He didn't even mention _her._

Amy sighed and froze when she glanced back up. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not notice when a sleek black BMW had stopped in front of her. Amy froze and tried to get into her fight stance as fast as possible with a dozen shopping bags.

Two men in suits, she guessed that another one was drving the car, got out and one of them took her shopping bags and placed them into the boot while the other pushed her into the car. Amy struggled and flung her arms around, "Let me go!" The man ignored her and roughly shoved her into the back seat.

There was another woman in the back seat. Unlike Amy, she was calm and was texting someone on her iPhone. Amy huffed as she flopped onto the leather seat and they drove off. Amy glanced between her and that woman. The woman seemed uniterested as to where were they going, unlike Amy who was panicking inside her mind.

_Oh my god where I am going who are these people who is she who are they where's Sherlock oh my god i don't know where I am oh my god Sherlock save me please Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock_

Amy snapped out of her panic attack and tried to ignore the voices in her head. She whispered to the woman, "Where are we going?" The woman said without looking at her and said, "Can't tell you that."

Amy scowled and said in a harsher tone, "Who am I meeting?" She guessed it was someone important considering the men in suits and the assistant she was currently talking to. The woman said again, "You will be seeing soon enough." Amy sighed and glanced out of the window. Who _was_ she meeting?


	10. Chapter Nine

Around half an hour later, Amy guessed, she had arrived at her destination. The two men in suits got out of the car and helped Amy open the car door for her. She frowned and glanced around. It was an abandoned warehouse. Who in the world was she meeting? Was she being kidnapped? Sherlock had mentioned that he had enemies, but he was sure that they would not touch her. It hadn't even been one day but someone was already looking for her.

The two men gestured her to walk forward and one of them took the lead, the other guarding her behind. The woman was also behind her. They walked for a few minutes, before they stopped in a large empty room. There was a tall man in a suit with his back to her. He was also holding an umbrella in his hand and twirling it on the floor.

The woman coughed and said, "Boss, she's here."

The man scoffed loudly and turned around while saying, "Yes, I could hear that."

He nodded at the men and the woman, and they left the room. That didn't make Amy feel any better, lest safer. What if this weird man had a gun? She stood there fidgeting and playing with her fingers. Amy was annoyed. The man was just studying here. Heck, he wasn't even saying anything.

Amy said, scowling, "Who are you, and why am I here?"

The man looked at her and smiled, "I'm Mycroft Holmes."

Amy did a double take at his last name. She replied, "_Holmes? _Mycroft _Holmes?_"

Mycroft rolled his eyes and nodded walking up and down the room, "Yes. I'm the older brother of Sherlock Holmes. Not that he would have mentioned me."

Amy stood there, still shocked and gaping at Mycroft with wide eyes, "He never told me he had siblings." Mycroft let out an icy chuckle, "Of course he didn't. We have a feud. And I thought you would have known, or guessed."

Amy's frown grew deeper as she said, "What do you mean guessed? I never imagined Sherlock having a brother." Mycroft gave her a cool smile before replying her, "The letters. The phone calls."

She froze, "How did you know about them? I don't even know you!" Mycroft's smile was replaced by an arrogant grin, "I was the one who threw away your letters. I was also the one who blocked your number."

Amy's eyes narrowed. Who the hell did this Mycroft think he was? Throwing away _her_ letters to Sherlock and blocking _her _number on their house phone. She stepped closer to him, fists shaking with rage, "Why the hell did you do that?" Amy was no longer being polite and nice and delicate. She was furious.

Mycroft kept the same passive facial expression, "This was the first time I saw him get so _emotional._ And so emotional over a girl." Amy slowly uncurled her fists and relaxed, "Emotional? Over me? What do you mean?"

Mycroft spoke, "He was _crying_ into his pillow like a baby. He locked himself into his room for days and days after you left. He loved you, you know." Amy's eyes widened.

She stammered, "What the fuck did you mean he _loved_ me? Sherlocks said he will never love anyone. Like, not ever in his life. He couldn't have loved someone like me."

Mycroft chuckled, a mocking one, "He did. I didn't want to see him like this. It was blocking his intellect. So, when your letters started coming, I threw them all away. It would only hurt him more. I also taught him to build a mind palace. He locked away all his memories and feelings about you. And now that you're back, I'm afraid you're going to unlock them again. He's an internet celebrity, him and John. Search up John's blog to read about their cases. I can't let him lose this. His skill."

Amy frowned, she was convinced that Mycroft was a self-centered dick who only cared about his brother's brains, not his actual brother. She glared at him, "So, what do you want me to do? Are you going to chase me out? Because thats defintely not happening."

Mycroft smiled, he resembled the Joker when he smiled like that. Amy didn't like it. He said, "No. Unless you spy on him for me. I'll give you money." Amy gasped and fired, "What the hell is wrong with you? I'm never doing that. Not on them. Hell no, that's my answer."

Mycroft crossed his arms, "Okay." Amy blinked in confusion and said, "Okay? Okay what?" He continued, "Okay, I'll let you stay. Be careful though. Sherlock's not telling you about someone. Send her back." At that moment, the men led her back to the car and drove off to 221B. What did Mycroft mean when he said Sherlock wasn't telling her of someone? Did Sherlock have a girlfriend. She hoped not. Amy decided to tell him about this incident, and ask him about that person. Amy sighed.

When Amy finally got back to 221B, it was half past ten. She got her shopping bags and watched as the BMW drove off, to where ever it came from. Amy hurried up to the flat. It was late and dark and cold, she just wanted to take a hot shower and go to sleep. Oh, and talk to Sherlock, of course.

When Amy stepped in, Sherlock was playing his violin again, and John was seated on the couch, looking anxious. He jumped up when Amy placed her bags on the floor. He said while rushing to her, "Amy! Where were you? We were so worried!" Amy cast a look at Sherlock. He did not look that worried. John did though.

Amy managed a weak smile, which was a miracle after that day's events, and repiled, "Don't worry, John. I'm fine." Sherlock had stopped playing his violin and he walked towards her. He looked at her up and down and said, "Where were you?"

Amy faked a smile as big as possible, and spoke, "Shopping, of course!" Sherlock frowned as he moved his face closer to hers, Amy flinched. He smirked, "I know that. But after that, where did you go?" Amy attempted to think of a lie, because she had lost all her coinfidence about telling them about the incident, but she was defeated. She said, "Your brother called for me."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and glanced at John before training his eyes on hers, "Mycroft?" Amy nodded and said, "Yeah, him. Or whatever his name was."

Sherlock sighed and paced around the room, "What did he say?" Amy shrugged as she picked up her shopping bags to go to her room, "Nothing much. Just that he wanted me to spy on you. Which I declined."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he laid back down on the couch, "You made the same mistake of John. You should have accepted. We could have spilt the money." Amy walked into her room and said loudly so that Sherlock could hear her, "Yeah. Well. It's too late now." She didn't want to mention him 'loving' her or whatever. Mycroft might have been lying.

John stopped at the doorway of her room and said, "You might want to quickly get to sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day." Amy frowned at John as she placed the clothes she bought into the closet, "What's happening tomorrow?"

John gave Amy a warm smile before walking away, "Clients."


	11. Chapter Ten

Amy woke up the noise of a woman sobbing.

She was sure that woman was in the flat, nobody who was outside could cry that loud. She groaned and rolled over and unlocked her brand new iPhone 4. It was released little over a year ago, and Apple had said that iPhone 5 was coming out later in the year, but Amy didn't really care for it.

Amy checked the time and let out a loud groan again. It was nine in the morning. Who in the world would come so early? She knew Sherlock and John had clients but it was impossible for a sane human to wake up before ten, wasn't it?

Well, maybe not Sherlock. He wasn't exactly sane, he was gifted. Maybe John had no choice. He was Sherlock's assistant afterall. Amy manged to get out of bed and she opened the closet sleepily, eyes half closed. The loud crying continued, and she heard John comforting the woman.

Amy got out a shirt and a jean skirt she had bought yesterday. She carried them on her arm and she opened the door. The cries got louder and louder as she walked towards the living room, and she sighed. The sound of crying always made her feel sad, after her adventures with the Doctor.

She lumbered into the living room, which was next to the bathroom. Amy froze when all three pairs of eyes looked at her. She suddenly felt self conscious. Amy was only wearing her dressing gown, that reached mid thigh, and her dressing robe.

Sherlock ran his eyes over her and for those few seconds, Amy stopped breathing. The woman who was crying had thin, brown hair, and was stick thin. She was dabbing at her eyes, which was red and swollen.

John broke the silence, "Uh, good morning Amy."

The woman glanced at her and narrowed her eyes. She said in a hoarse voice, "Who is this? Is this your slut?"

Sherlock replied her calmly, "No, she's our-" Amy was shocked at her words for a few moments before she snapped at the woman, "_What_ did you call me?"

Sherlock gave her the Look and turned back to the woman. He spoke, "No, she isn't. She's our flatmate. Don't mind her. Tell us why are you here." Amy shot the woman one final glare and stomped into the bathroom. As she showered, she heard the woman crying again, and John comforting her again.

"I think my husband's cheating on me." Amy snorted and rubbed some shampoo in her hair. Sherlock was a detective, not some helpline for failed marriages. As she rinsed it out, she heard John comforting her_ again._ Amy rolled her eyes and she reached for the conditioner she had placed in the shower.

Amy had just stepped out of the bathroom when she watched and heard Sherlock say, "Next." The woman looked shocked and she sobbed loudly, begging Sherlock to take her 'case'. It took five minutes for her to leave, and through out that time, Amy stood there in the same spot.

She sat beside Sherlock on the couch. John was sitting in an armchair while there was a wooden chair in front of them where the woman was sitting. Amy asked Sherlock, "I thought you were going to take her case."

Sherlock shook his head while glancing at the clock at the wall, "No. It was boring. Plus I didn't like the way she spoke to you." Amy looked down at her fingers and muttered, "Oh. Anyways, who's next?"

For the next four hours, multiple clients came and went. At the end of the day, the only case that Sherlock found interesting, it wasn't even a case, was a group of nerds who wanted to prove that comic books had connections to real life events. Amy had already heard about that theory from the Doctor. She yawned as the group left and she got up and stretched.

John was typing into his computer, no doubt writing a new blog post about the nerds. Sherlock stood over John's shoulder as he read out the title, "The Geek Interceptor. What's that?" John took a quick look at Sherlock and pointed at the screen, "The name of the blog post."

Amy walked over so that she stood beside Sherlock. John was on a web page, which header was The Personal Blog of John H. Watson. Amy smirked, "It's not a very personal blog if the two of you got famous off it."

Sherlock scoffed and walked back to his spot on the couch, "I don't even know why he writes this blog." John looked up from the computer screen and said defensively, "Hey! I didn't know so many people would read it."

Amy doubled over in laughter as she flopped back onto the couch. She wiped the happy tears from her eyes and she saw Sherlock and John staring at her quizzing. She managed one little laugh and she asked, "What are you all staring at?"

Sherlock glanced away and said, "Nothing." He smiled to himself and his phone buzzed. He got up and took long strides to where it lay on the dining table in the kitchen.

He unlocked it and quickly read the text message. Sherlock smirked and grabbed his coat and his scarf while woop-ing happily. John said as he closed his laptop, "What's that?" Sherlock replied him haughtily as he tightened his scarf around his neck, "Lestrade. We have a case!"

Sherlock swung out of the door, but a second later he popped his head in, "Amy, you're coming along!" He walked out of the door and down the steps again. John wore his jacket and Amy said to him, "Is it okay if I come along?" John smiled warmly at her and waited for her to get her sweater.

He said while smirking to himself, "It wasn't a question. Sherlock wanted you to come along." Oh, yes. John Watson knew. John Watson knew that Sherlock Holmes was getting soft for Amy Pond.

The case that Lestrade had for them was a robbery that Sherlock deemed boring. They were about to go out of the police station when John passed Amy her beret which he had picked up off the floor. She glanced down at it in confusion.

"What's this for?"

John sighed as he wore his sports cap, "Reporters. We're kind of like mini celebrities now,"

Sherlock was wearing the mainstream hat for detectives, the checkered brown and beige one with ear flaps. She giggled at the sight of him, he looked so unamused. Sherlock looked her way when he caught her laughter.

Amy giggled once more before smiling at him and saying, "I like your hat."

Sherlock gave her a surprised look and replied, "Really? I think it's rather stupid. Who would place ear flaps on a hat?"

"I think it looks cute on you."

"Really? People don't normally associate me with the word 'cute'. That's a first."

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"Huh. I guess so."

Sherlock turned back around to face the door and John caught him smiling to himself. Huh, weird. He guessed Amy was right, there was a first time for everything. John glanced between the both of them in amusement and said, "Are we ready to go?"

Lestrade came up beside the three of them and said, "There's alot of press out there, guys." John had introduced Amy on his blog, so probably the news knew about the newest addition to the 'Sleuth Crew', as they called it.

Sherlock who seemed oblivious to his interent fame, repiled, "Well, they won't be interested in us." Amy laughed behind them, "Well, that was probably before you two became big on the internet. Now they want pictures, obviously."

Lestrade took a second glance at Amy. He smiled and held out his hand, "Hello there. I read about you on John's blog but I never saw you just now."

Amy took his hand and shook it, "Oh, hi. Yeah I was standing outside. You must be Lestrade." Lestrade smiled a 'shinig' one and smoothly said, "Yeap, and you must be The Amy Pond. Call me Greg."

Amy smiled nervously and nodded. Lestrade was about to say something when Sherlock coughed loudly, "Lestrade, shut up. We need to go." A hint of jealously was in Sherlock's voice.

Lestrade gave Amy and the others one final grin before he went back to his office. Sherlock said to Amy, "Cover your face and walk fast."

She angled her beret in a certain so that it was covering at least half of her face, "Why? Isn't it good for your public image."

Sherlock opened the door and replied back to her, "I'm a private detective. I don't need a public image. And it's 'us' and not 'your'."

Amy rolled her eyes and the three of them stepped out in front of the reporters. Camera flashes were in her eyes and she heard two reporters whisper, "It's her, it's the new girl!" Amy huffed and hurried on, she did not like just being addressed as 'the new girl'. Suddenly, a man stepped in front of her and held a microphone in front of her, along with another beside him holding a video camera.

The man shoved the microphone in her face, "How is it like living with Sherlock Holmes, as a girl?" Amy stopped in her tracks and stared blankly at it and muttered, "I..."

The crowd broke apart and Sherlock came bursting through it. He shouted, "Amy!" He came to her and held her hand as he dragged her away from the reporters and into a taxi. John was already inside and Amy and Sherlock flopped onto the seats, with Amy in the middle.

Amy glanced down and noticed that Sherlock's hand was still intertwined with hers, and she coughed. Sherlock gave her a questioning look and followed Amy's gaze. He quickly let go of her hand and murmured, "Sorry." Amy smiled at him and shook her head, "It's okay."

The three of them lasped into silence.

While the trio were at the police station, Mrs Hudson cleaning up 221B. She picked up a mug and an almost empty bottle of milk and walked into the kitchen, sighing at the mess in there. Mrs Hudson placed the mug on the table and took across to the fridge door and opening it, earning her a blast of the smell inside. She recoiled and picked up a clear plastic bag. She peered at the contents and drops the bag into the fridge when she realised what was inside, "Ooh dear! Thumbs!"

Mrs Hudson closed the fridge door and turned around, only to see an overweight man stumbled into the kitchen, confusion written all over his face as he stared at her. He mumbled under his breath, "The door was... The door was..."

The man took a deep breath and dropped to the floor in a faint. Mrs Hudson looked at him in terror and shouted out, "Sherlock! You got another one!"


	12. Chapter Eleven

The man, who Amy found out that his name was Phil, was sitting on the wooden chair meant for clients. John was sitting in his arm chair while Sherlock was standing slightly beside the man. Amy was seated on the couch.

Sherlock said sternly, "Tell us from the start. Don't be boring."

It turned out that it had happened fourteen hours ago. Somewhere out in the country, Phil's car was broken down. Phil said he saw a man, who seemed to be looking up at the sky. Amy guessed that he was watching for birds. Phil said his car made a loud noise, which sounded like a gunfire, which was the aftermath of him trying to start his car up. When Phil looked back at the man, he was lying down.

Apparently after close inspection, the man was dead. That was when Phil got his car towed and came to Sherlock. And surprisingly, Sherlock accepted the case.

That night, Amy was scrolling through the news on John's laptop when she came across the main article's headline.

'BATMAN, ROBIN AND THE MYSTERIOUS BATWOMAN.'

Amy gaped at the screen for a few seconds and groaned as she gently dumped the laptop on the coffee table. Sherlock who was playing his violin, and John who was reading that morning's newspapers heard her and looked up.

John asked, "What's wrong." Amy sighed and read out the headline in a monotone voice, "Batman, Robin and The Mysterious Batwoman. Batwoman? Batwoman?! How am I supposed to be Batwoman? Is there such thing as Batwoman even? Why am I Batwoman?"

John took the laptop from the table and placed it into his lap. He skimmed through the article and replied to Amy, "I think Batwoman is supposed to be Batman's girlfriend." Sherlock, who had taken a seat in his chair, said, "So?"

John chuckled, "They think that Amy is your love interest, Sherlock. Looking at how you held her hand and pulled her away from the reporters." Amy blushed remembering that but she said back, "But that doesn't mean anything! I only see Sherlock as a friend, and he only sees me as a friend. That was only a _friendly _gesture, right Sherlock?"

Sherlock seemed to be in deep thought. He did not answer Amy for a few moments. Amy nudged him, "Sherlock?" He broke out of his trance and glanced up at her, "What? Oh right yes. Of course. Only a friendly gesture."

Amy smiled at John, "See? Only a friend." She got up and said good night to the both of them and went into her room.

John also nodded to Sherlock and closed his laptop. John Watson noticed something. Sherlock did not deny that he saw Amy as a romantic interest.

Yes. Sherlock Holmes was in deep thought. Not about the case. About something else. Or rather, _someone._

Sherlock was thinking about Amelia Pond. She came into his life at school and saved him, she was like the other half, the 'caring' half he never had. But he would never admit it to her. Until now. It never occured to Sherlock that the two had been so close that the students and even the teachers thought that they were dating.

What if she had loved him? He remembered her last day, and when he held her and they stared into each other's eyes. Sherlock realised how brown her eyes were, how pale her skin was and how the sunlight shined on her red hair, all in those few seconds, all the feelings Sherlock never thought he could feel.

This is bad. Sherlock knew this is bad. Very bad. Moriarty bad. He shouldn't be feeling these sort of things for anyone, much less Amy Pond. This could be a disadvantage. A very horrible disadvantage.

It's just that, all his teennage love for her came back when she stepped through that door. He had immediately zoned in on her, even blurring out John. She seemed like the Sun, bright and shining, but if you got too close, it would hurt you.

No, that was stupid. Dumb. Idiotic. Amelia Pond could never hurt anyone. It was him, Sherlock Holmes. He was the Sun. Sherlock didn't want Amy to get caught up in Moriarty's game. That's why he didn't tell her about him. He was keeping her safe. He knew if he told her, she would go and find Moriarty herself, and that was dangerous.

John had already almost died at the hands of Moriarty and Sherlock didn't want to risk that happening again. Not with Amy. Not with _his_ Amy.

Only when she nudged him did he break his train of thoughts, only to see her beautiful face staring down at him. Beautiful? This was new. Sherlock never found anything beautiful, except for a good murder. But Amy Pond was an exception. Amy was beautiful.

_Many hours later in the morning..._

_"Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?"_

_"Who?"_

_"Well, you're about to meet him now. This is your case. It's entirely up to you. This is just friendly advice, but give Sherlock five minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything that he has to say. And as far as possible, try not to punch him."_

_"Okay."_

Detective Inspector Carter hung up on Lestrade just as a car drove up next to the crime scene and stopped. Carter looked at the car in confusion as a young police officer spoke to the person in the backseat.

Carter watched as the police officer nodded to the person and walked towards him. He said, "Sir, this gentleman and this lady needs to speak to you." Carter walked closer to the car and nodded, "Yes, I know. Sherlock Holmes?"

John and Amy got out of the car and the both of them shook Carter's hand. John spoke first, followed by Amy, introducing themselves. John asked, "Are you set up for wi-fi?"

Amy was staring at the computer screen as Sherlock wandered out from the hallway behind the kitchen and strolled into the kitchen, wearing only a sheet wrapped around him. Amy was skypeing Sherlock while John was questioning Carter.

Amy said offscreen as she waited for Sherlock to settle down in a chair, "You do realise that this is a tiny bit humliating?"

Sherlock yawned as he picked a cup of tea from the table and repiled to her, "It's okay. I'm fine." Amy rolled her eyes as he picked up the laptop and adjusted the screen so that she could see his face, and he carried it out to the living room. Sherlock spoke, "Now. Show me the stream."

Amy sighed as she said offscreen while carrying the laptop to the side of the stream, "Why do we have to do it for you?"

Sherlock snorted and replied her, "This is a six." At the same time, Amy heard the doorbell ring but Sherlock ignored it. He continued saying, "There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Now, go back. Show me the grass." Amy got up from her kneeling position beside the stream and walked a few steps before bending down and aiming the camera at the grass.

She asked, "When did the both of us agree?"

Sherlock said in monotone voice, "We agreeed it this morning." Suddenly, he raised his voice as he peered at the grass, "Stop! Closer."

Instead of following his instrutions, Amy swung the laptop around so that she could look into the camera. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and said, "Well, yeah I know we agreed. But, next time can you just come with us?"

Sherlock frowned, "Why?" Amy heard the doorbell ringing more. Sherlock briefly looked at the direction of the stairs and shouted angrily, "Shut up!"

Amy smiled at him, "Because it's more fun with you. Like way more fun." Sherlock shrugged as he returned to stare back at Amy's face, "Why?"

Amy shrugged back and said while giggling, "I don't know. It just is." Sherlock liked the sound of that. Oh yes he did. Sherlock said, "Now, show me the car that backfired."

Amy swung the laptop back around towards the road to show Phil's car. She said, "It's there. That one." Sherlock studied it, "That's the one that made the noise?" Amy nodded and suddenly the laptop swung back around. John was staring at Sherlock.

He said, " And if you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one.I was speaking to the detective inspector. He wasn't shot; he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That's gotta be an eight at least."

The laptop was given back to Amy and she was looking at Sherlock as he leaned back in his chair. He ran his finger back and forth on his top lip as he thought about it, for some reason, that action had made Amy's heart melt into a puddle of goo.

As Amy was walking back towards the road where John was standing, Carter was moving along beside her. He said to Sherlock, "You've got two more minutes, then I want to know more about the driver."

Sherlock sighed and waved his hand, as if he was waving away Carter. He repiled with scorn in his voice, "Oh, forget him. He's an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?"

Amy laughed at what he said and Carter glared at him through the camera, "_I _think he's a suspect!" Sherlock leaned forward angrily and said to Amy, "Pass me over."

Amy said nervously, "Sherlock what are you-"

"I said, Pass. Me. Over."

Amy rolled her eyes and handed the laptop to Carter, he took it. Sherlock started talking at double the usual speed, "Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness, why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?"

Carter sniggered and said to Sherlock with a smirk, " He's trying to be clever. It's over-confidence."

Sherlock sighed in frustration at maybe Carter's stupid-ness. He shot back, " Did you see him? Morbidly obese, the undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own, the right sleeve of an internet porn addict and the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self-esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy – and you think he's an audacious criminal mastermind?!"

Amy watched, awe-struck at Sherlock's speech. He was smart. So smart. But so mean. She liked it. No, Amy _loved_ it. Sherlock turned around to whoever was sitting in John's armchair. It was Phil. He said to him, "Don't worry. This is just stupid,"

Phil replied back anxiously, "What did you say? Heart what?" Sherlock ignored him and turned back to the computer screen and ordered, "Go to the stream."

Carter repiled, "What's in the stream?" Sherlock sighed again and said, "Go and see."

Carter handed the laptop back to Amy and she peered into the computer screen. She watched as Mrs Hudson came up the stairs followed by two men wearing suits. Amy heard Sherlock say, "Who the hell are you?" One of the men went to the kitchen and the other moved closer to Sherlock and said, "Sorry, Mr Holmes. You're coming with us." He reached over to close the laptop and Amy reacted.

She called out in alarm, "Sherlock? What's happening? Sherlock? Sherlock!"

The screen went black.


	13. Chapter 12

Amy poked at the keyboard frantically as the screen went black, with John beside her. He asked, "Amy, what happened?"

She shrugged, pressing random keys and replied, "I lost him. I don't know what..." Just then, a young police officer rushed towards the both of them with a phone pressed to his ear. He said to the duo, "Miss Pond? Doctor Watson?"

John repiled, "Yeah?"

"It's for you."

"Okay, thanks." Still looking at the screen, John held out his hand for the phone. Amy nudged him, "Uh.." John glanced at where she was looking at, and saw a helicopter that which was just coming to land at the edge of the stream.

The police officer said, "The helicopter is for you. The both of you."

Some time later, John was sitting beside the pilot while Amy was seated behind him. She frowned and looked down as the helicopter flew over London. What had Sherlock done now? She knew that it was no coincidence that those men had come for Sherlock around the same time as the helicopter had come for her and John. Where were they going?

Amy's question was answered a few minutes later, when the helicopter started approaching the Buckingham Palace. She knew John had seen the Palace come into view too when he turned around and gave her a questioning look. She shrugged and shivered as the helicopter came to land.

Not long afterwards, John and Amy were shown into an enormous ornate hall with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Amy stared at it in awe. It was beautiful. The crystal sparkled in the sunshine, reflecting into their eyes. They glanced around for a moment, then followed their escort who gestured to a nearby room and walked away. John and Amy shot each other confused looks before walking in.

On a small round table in the middle of the posh-looking room, Amy and John noticed a pile of clothes and shoes on it. They gave each other the same confused look when they saw Sherlock sitting on a sofa, still wrapped in his sheet. He looked across to them calmly.

Amy's mouth dropped open in shock as she stared at him, and John held out his hands in outrage. Sherlock shrugged and looked away. John and Amy nodded at each other and she walked slowly further into the room.

Amy sat beside Sherlock and John sat beside her, so that she was in the middle of the two of them. Amy stared at the front for a few seconds, chewing back a giggle. What was Sherlock doing, in the Buckingham Palace wearing _only a sheet?_ It was the most fun she had had in a few months, ever since she left the Doctor.

Amy ran her eyes around the room. John was staring at his hands. She looked at Sherlock again, peering closely at his sheet. Amy frowned. Was he... She said, "Are you wearing any pants?"

Sherlock repiled, "No." Amy said back curtly, "Okay." Amy sighed quietly, giving John the Look. A moment later, Sherlock turned to look at her just as Amy also turns to look. They both glanced at John and the trio promptly burst out laughing.

John gestured around the building, "At Buckingham Palace, fine." Amy guessed he was trying hard to get himself under control. He continued, "I'm seriously fighting an urge to steal an ashtray." Sherlock and Amy chuckled again.

John sighed and said, "What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?"

Sherlock replied, still smiling, "I don't know." Amy and Sherlock's eyes met again, and they smiled at each other. Amy felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach, but she brushed it aside. She must be hungry. Amy remarked, "Here to see the Queen, perhaps."

At that moment, Mycroft walked into the room. Sherlock smirked, "Oh, apparently yes." Amy and John cracked up again and Sherlock joined in. The trio continued to giggle as Mycroft looked at them with exasperation.

Mycroft said with scorn, "Just once, can you three behave like grown ups?"

John replied, "We solve crimes, I blog about it and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn't hold up too much hope." Amy giggled.

As Mycroft came to a stop in front of them, Sherlock looked up, all humor gone from his face. He said, "I was in the middle of a case."

Mycroft snickered, "What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report, a bit obvious, really." Seeing Mycroft talk to Sherlock as if he hadn't just threatened her a few days ago made Amy feel nervous. What else was he capable of?

Sherlock said sarcasticly, "Transparent." John gave Amy a startled look. She didn't know why. Mycroft bent down and picked the clothes and shoes from the table, and turned to offer them to Sherlock. He just gazed up at them. Mycroft sighs and said sternly, "We are in the Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, _put your trousers on!"_

Sherlock shurgged, "What for?" Mycroft replied curtly, "Your client."

Sherlock stood up, while still holding on to his sheet, "And my client is?" A deep voice suddenly sounded through the room, "Illustrious ..."

The trio turned to look at the man who just walked into the room. The man continued, "In the extreme..." John suddenly stood up respectfully. Amy glanced at him and hurridly stood up too. The man said, "And anonymous."

The man looked towards to Mycroft and exclamied, "Mycroft!" Mycroft walked over and shaked the man's hand, smiling, "Harry." Ah, so this man's name is Harry, Amy noted in her mind.

Mycroft continued, "I apolgise for the state of my little brother." Harry smiled and replied, "Ah, I imagine full-time occupation." Amy didn't really understand what he meant, but maybe it was an inside joke. Sherlock scowled.

Harry walked towards John, "And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." John nodded and said, "Hello, yes." They shook hands.

Harry said, "My employer is a big fan of your blog."

John looked startled, "Your employer?" Harry spoke, "Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch."

John looked extremly pleased with what Harry had said, "Thank you!" Harry turned around to Amy and he grinned at her, "And you must be Amy Pond. The newest addition to the Sleuthing Crew." They shook hands too.

Amy smiled warmly, "Sleuthing Crew?" Harry nodded, "Yes. That's what everyone's calling the three of you." Amy blushed and replied softly, "Oh... Well that's-"

Sherlock cut Amy off, "Stupid." Amy glared at Sherlock and he mouthed a quick apology to her. Little did she know that Sherlock was _jelaous._

Harry turned to face Sherlock, and cleared his throat smugly. He walked closer to him and said, "Mr Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs."

Sherlock replied back smartly, "I take the precation of a good coat and a short friend." John turned to look at Sherlock with a shocked face, realising that he was the 'short friend'.

Sherlock looked briefly at Amy and walked past her and John, and approached his brother. He said, "Mycroft, I don't do anonyomous clients. I can't have a mystery on the both ends of my cases."

Sherlock started to walk out of the room but Mycroft stepped on the trailing edge of his sheet. Sherlock carried himself forward while the sheet fell off his body. Amy shrieked and was prepared to cover her eyes but luckily, Sherlock stopped and grabbed at it before it went past his bum.

Amy raised her eyebrows as she ran her eyes over Sherlock's biceps and his muscled back. She smirked and crossed her arms as she studied the nice sight in front of her. He had a better body than the Doctor's.

Sherlock tried to tug it back around himself, he was furious. Mycroft said with an amused tone to his voice, "This is of national importantce. Grow up."

With his back still turned to Mycroft, Sherlock replied through gritted teeth, "Get off my sheet!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll just walk away."

John spoke up, "Boys, please, not here."

Sherlock was almost incandescent with rage as he said, "Who. Is. My. _Client?_" Mycroft replied with scorn, "Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for _God's sake..._"

He broke off and glanced at Harry briefly, and tried to get his anger under control before facing Sherlock again. Mycroft said, "Put your clothes on!"

Sherlock closed his eyes furiously, then pulled in a sharp breath.


	14. Chapter 13

Some time later, Sherlock has finally dressed and is sitting on the sofa again with Amy and John. Mycroft and Harry was sitting opposite them, the coffee table in between. Mycroft had just finished pouring tea for all five of them. He set the teapot down.

Harry looked at Sherlock and said, "My employer has a problem." Mycroft spoke up, "A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen."

Sherlock scoffed and replied, "Why come to me? You have the police force." Harry continued, "People do come to you for help, don't they Mr Holmes?"

Sherlock said, "Not, to date, anyone with the Navy." Mycroft repiled immediately, "This is a matter of highest sercurity, and therefore of trust."

John suddenly spoke, "Don't you trust your own Secret Service?"

"Nautrally not. They all spy for money."

Amy watched as John bit back a smile. Mycroft opened his briefcase and took out a glossy and handed it to Sherlock. He looked at the photo.

Mycroft said, "What do you know about this woman?"

Sherlock shrugged and replied, "Nothing whatsoever.

"Then you should be paying more attention. She's been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately."

Amy frowned. She was absent for most of last year because she was with the Doctor, but she remembered some of the gossip her friends had fed to her. Amy suddenly thought of her name. She said excitably, "Is she Irene Alder? I heard of her from my friends."

Mycroft nodded and said, "Yes. Irene Alder, professionally known as The Woman."

John blinked a few times, before asking in a confused tone, "Professionally?"

Mycroft turned to him and replied, "There are many names for what she does. She prefers 'dominatrix'."

Amy giggled, but quickly covered it up with a cough. Sherlock glanced down and said thoughtfully to himself, "Dominatrix."

Mycroft said, with scorn laced in his voice, "Don't be alarmed. It has to do with sex."

Sherlock stared at his older brother as if he was shocked, "Sex doesn't alarm me."

Mycroft smiled snidely at him, "How would you know?" Sherlock raised his head and glanced at Mycroft. John coughed.

Mycroft continued, "She provides – shall we say – _recreational scolding_ for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it. These are all from her website." He took some more glossy photos out of his briefcase and passed them to Sherlock.

Sherlock took the photographs and leafed through them as Amy peered over his shoulder. They were professional looking shots for her - well - services which showed Irene at her apparently best.

Sherlock said ,"And I assume this Irene woman has some very compromising photographs."

Harry suddenly spoke up, "You're very quick, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock replied curtly, "Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?"

Harry said, while crossing his hands over each other, "A person of significance to my employer. We'd prefer not to say any more at this time." Sherlock, hearing his reply, glared at him angrily and placed the photos on the coffee table.

Amy said, "You can't tell us anything?"

Mycroft smiled, "I can tell you it's a young person." John drank from his teacup.

Mycroft continued, "A young_ female _person." John's eyes widened and Sherlock smirked while glancing over at Amy. Amy said again, "How many photographs?"

"A considerable amount."

Sherlock interrupted the both of them, "Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?"

"Yes, they do."

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios."

"An imaginative range, we are assured."

Without looking at him, Amy realised that John was staring at Mycroft blankly, with his teacup still half raised. She whispered to him, "John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now." John quickly did as advised.

Harry pretended that he didn't hear her and asked Sherlock, "Can you help us, Mr Holmes?"

Sherlock replied, "How?"

"Will you take the case?"

"What case? Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, "Know when you are beaten"."

Sherlock turned and reached for his overcoat which was draped on the back of the sofa. Mycroft said simply, "She doesn't want anything."

Sherlock dropped his coat back onto the sofa and turned back towards him. Mycroft continued, "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour."

Sherlock finally looked like he was interested," Oh, a _power play_. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?"

John sighed, "Sherlock..."

He replied without turning to look at him, "Hmm?" Sherlock turned around and reached for his coat again while saying, "Where is she?"

Mycroft said, clearly shocked, "Uh, she's in London currently. She's staying-"

Not waiting for him to finish, Sherlock picked up with coat, stood up and started to walk away. John and Amy got up after him. He repiled, "Text me the details. I'll be in touch by the end of the day. First, we have to head back to 221B."

Harry and Mycroft stood up too. Harry questioned, "Do you really think you'll have news by then?"

Sherlock turned back to him and smirked, "No, I think I'll have the photographs."

Sherlock suddenly grabbed Amy's wrist and walked out of the Palace, while saying, "Laters!" He did not sound the 't' in the word. John threw an apologetic glance over his shoulder before following after Sherlock.

At 221B, John and Sherlock were sitting in their respective arm chairs. Amy was sitting on the couch. Amy leaned towards Sherlock. He felt his heart beat faster. She said, "So, what do you want me to do?"

Sherlock replied, "Amy, do you still have your kissogram costumes?" John turned to listen to their conversation. Amy nodded while looking at Sherlock with a confused look on her face, "Yeah. Why? I didn't know you were so kinky, Sherlock."

Sherlock flushed at her words but quickly regained his calm composure. He replied, "No. I don't want a kiss. Which costumes do you have?"

Amy frowned as she said, "Police, nurse and maid. I have more but they're at my old employer's place. I only have them because they were popular with the customers."

Sherlock smiled at the metion of the police outfit. That was perfect. Still, he wasn't so fond of Amy being a kissogram, even though she wasn't now. He didn't like imagining her in those probably short mini skirts, sashaying over to her customer and possibly seducing them, then planting a big snog on their lips. But he did like thinking of her in the most likely short outfits. Oh yes he did.

Amy poked his arm, "Sherlock?" Sherlock shook himself out of his trance and turned to Amy to face her deep brown eyes, "Oh. Yes. Well, go wear the police outfit."

Amy snorted in amusement and said, "What? Why? What ever for?"

Sherlock repiled to her, "Just wear it."

Amy sighed but went into her room to change.

A few minutes later, Amy walked out. Sherlock gave a little gasp that only he could hear. She was dressed in a white shirt with a police vest over it, and an _extremly_ short black mini skirt that stopped just below her bum. Amy was also wearing translucent black stockings with killer black high heels. On her police vest, there was a fake walkie talkie and she was dangling some fake handcuffs.

John was reading the newspaper and his mouth dropped open as she strutted out. He said in a shocked tone, "Amy, what are you-"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stood up. He walked over in front of Amy and said what John was about to say, "Amelia Pond, _what the hell are you wearing?_"

Amy crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him, "Don't call me that. And this is my police outfit. Can we get going now?"

John saw how Sherlock nervously ran his eyes up and down Amy, lingring slightly longer on her long legs. He smirked. Sherlock was actually behaving like a human.

Sherlock coughed and stammered, "W-What? Yes. Of course. Come along, John." He grabbed his coat and scarf and walked out of 221B.


	15. Chapter 14

The three of them was sitting in a taxi, with Amy in the middle of John and Sherlock. They were on the move, with Sherlock in his usual coat and scarf.

Amy crossed her arms and said to Sherlock, "So, what's the plan?"

Shelock repiled to her while staring straight ahead, "We know her address."

Amy frowned and crossed her right leg over her left, so that it was rubbing against Sherlock's. She said, scoffing, "What, just ring her doorbell?" Sherlock glanced down at her leg and gave her a stern look, which she returned with a flirtly smile.

Sherlock turned to look at the front again. He felt his heart beating fast, which was stupid. He was not supposed to feel this way. Not supposed to feel this type of feeling. Especially not for Amy Pond. A chemical affect, a weakness, was dangerous. Sherlock could not afford to feel this way about anyone. Not at this crucial time, with Moriarty running around.

Sherlock felt Amy nudge him and say, "Sherlock?"

He turned to her and quickly repiled, "Ah, yes. Exactly."

Sherlock leaned slightly forward and called out to the taxi driver, "Just here, please."

He walked out of the taxi, followed by Amy, then John. John, who was listening to their conversation, and was amused by Amy's flirting attempts at Sherlock, said, "You didn't even change your clothes."

Sherlock turned to face the both of them and smiled, "Yeap, and that's where Amy comes in. John, I just need you to add a splash of colour."

Amy rolled her eyes as they followed Sherlock down a narrow street, taking off his scarf as he went. Eventually, he stopped and turned to walk in front of John. John had a confused look on his face as he asked, "Are we here?"

Sherlock repiled, "Two streets away, but this'll do."

Amy raised her eyebrows and pulled her skirt down, "For what?"

Sherlock gestured to his left cheek at John, "Punch me in the face."

The three of them settled into silence for a few minutes before John broke it, "Punch you?"

Sherlock sighed and gestured to his cheek again, "_Yes._ Punch me. In the face. Didn't you hear me?"

John said, with a tone of sass in his voice, "I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking but it's usually subtext."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and said, exasperated by how _stupid_ John was, "Oh, for God's sake."

Sherlock lunged forward and punched John in the face. Amy gasped as John grunted in pain and reeled from the blow. Sherlock was shaking out his hand and let out a loud breath, bracing himself for John's warth.

John straightened up and immediatey punched Sherlock. However, despite his anger, he hit Sherlock on his left cheek as instructed to. John hissed as pain rang through his fist, he turned away as Sherlock picked himself up, and flexed his hand painfully and examined his knuckles. Sherlock finally stood up straight, holding his fingers to the cut on his cheek.

Sherlock said shakily, "Thank you. That was... That was-"

John turned to him and punched him in the stomach, sending him crashing onto the ground. A few minutes of fighting, Sherlock is doubled over with John on his back half-strangling him, while Amy was behind John, pulling him back. John's face was contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, and Sherlock and Amy were struggling to pull his hands off him.

Sherlock gasped out, half choking, "Okay! I think we're done now John!"

John hissed savagely, "You would want to remember, Sherlock: I was a soldier. I killed people." Amy had ran to John's right side, and groaned as she attempted to get John's hands, which was wrapped around Sherlock, off him. She groaned, "You were an _army doctor!"_

John repiled, "I had bad days!"

After many, many attempts of calming John down, he finally let go of Sherlock. He hastily apologised to him and the trio walked over to Irene's house. According to Sherlock, the plan was that Sherlock and John were friends who were walking down the street, and they got into a physical fight. Amy, who was going to be the police woman, would arrest them, but decided to go to get a first-aid kit first.

As they stopped in front of Irene's house, John said, "Sherlock, are you sure this will work?"

Sherlock repiled harshy as he pressed the intercom button, "Yes. Now keep quiet."

Amy and John shot each other confused looks as they heard a woman say, "Hello?"

Amy watched as Sherlock stared into the camera, wide-eyed and flustered. He started talking in an anxious and tearful voice while looking behind him at John as he spoke, "Sorry to disturb you. Um, I've just been attacked by my friend." He gestured towards John. He continuted, "H-He injured me pretty badly, I think my jaw is broken. Umm, please, could you help me?"

The woman on the other line said, "I can phone the police if you want."

Sherlock said tearfully, still in character, "No, no it's okay! A nice police woman came to my aid." He turned around and looked at Amy, who made eye contact with the camera.

The woman continued, "I can pass you a first-aid kit, if you want."

Sherlock said in his fake voice, "Thank you! Thank you so much!" Holding a handkerchief to his cheek, he started to grizzle pathetically, looking at the side. It took all of Amy's willpower not to laugh, and all of her common sense not to scream at Sherlock because he was being so _obvivous_ that this was a set-up.

A few seconds later, a short buzz was heard and the door was open. Amy uncrossed her arms and put on her 'stern policewoman face', as Sherlock called it and followed into the house after John and Sherlock.

Still in character, Sherlock glanced around the hallway and looked at the woman, "Thank you!" Amy closed the door after them and said to Kate, "It's okay. I'm a policewoman. I saw it all happen." The woman nodded, a tiny smile on her face.

Amy said again, "Do you have a first aid kit?" The woman gestured to the door closest to the front door and repiled, "In the kitchen. Please."

Sherlock stammered, "Oh! Thank you!" John was about to follow when Amy took out her handcuffs, despite being fake, they looked very much like the real ones. John looked confused as Amy clicked one side of it around his wrist.

John said, "Am- Madam, what are you doing?" Amy repiled in a stern 'policewoman like' voice, "Arresting you, sir." She dragged him out of the house, and clicked the other the other side around a railing outside, so that he could not move.

John hissed, "Amy, this wasn't part of the plan." She sighed, "I'm sorry John. According to Sherlock, it is." Amy pat him on the shoulder before going back inside. The two of them were funny, she thought, Mrs Hudson told her about her theory about Sherlock being gay, which Amy hated to admit, was probably true. She knew which was cruel, but she liked to wind Sherlock up. Doing all of those flirtly gestures just to see him panic and shoot a look at John, who acted as if he had not just seen it.

Amy sighed. She thought back to her conversation with Mycroft. He said Sherlock had loved her. But it was so many years ago. She ran her hand through her red hair. Amy was leaning against the door, and let out a deep breath. Amy had felt feelings for Sherlock too, during that time. But now, she wasn't sure.

A/N: Hi guys, first author's note. I know I wrote that this happened in 2012, and I was daydreaming in class again, as usual, and I realised that I made a mistake with the dates. This happened in 2011, that's why there was a Christmas party in ASiB. I will go and edit that chapter really quick. I know that Amy didn't leave the Doctor until 2012, but shhhhhh. Anyways, thanks for the 600 reads, and all the votes and comments. If you want any specific interactions to happen between Sherlock and Amy or Amy and John, just comment down below. I am going to add some Christmas-y stuff, so YAY. Hope you all enjoy this kind of short chapter.

Love, Cassie


	16. Chapter 15

Very shortly afterwards, Sherlock had taken off his coat and was sitting on the sofa in the elegant sitting room, looking around. Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. He sat up a little and held the handkerchief to his cheek. He heard a female voice, "Hello, Sorry to hear the you're hurt. I don't think Kate caught your name."

Sherlock repiled, "I'm so sorry. I'm-" He turned and looked at Irene as she walked into view and stopped at the doorway. His voice fails him and he tenses up when he realised that apart for her high-heeled shoes, she was naked. His jaw dropped a little.

Irene smiled and said, "Isn't it hard to remember when you've had a fright, isn't it?" She walked into the room and stood directly in front of him, straddled her legs and half-kneeled on the sofa. Irene grinned down at him and continued, "Mr Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock repiled in his normal voice, "And Miss Alder, I presume."

Irene gazed down at his face, "Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?" She winked at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. As Sherlock stared at her in confusion, Amy walked into the room carrying a bowl of water and a fabric napkin. Her eyes were lowered to the bowl as she walked in, so as to make sure she didn't spill the contents.

Amy muttered, "Right. This should do it, Mr Holm-" She stopped dead in the doorway as she lifted her eyes and saw the scene in front of her. Irene looked around to her, her grin still on her face. Amy looked at her awkwardly as she felt rage bubble up inside her, then back at the bowl and looked up again. Amy said, with a bright red face that matched her hair, "I missed something haven't I?" She seemed to go out of her character without her knowing.

Irene stepped back from Sherlock, who was fidgeting uncomfortably on the sofa as she walked away. She said, "Please, sit down. Or if you'll like some tea I can call the maid."

Sherlock repiled, "I had some at the palace."

"I know."

"Clearly."

Irene sat down at the nearby arm chair and crossed her legs, and folded her arms gracefully to cover her chest. They stared silently at each other for a few seconds, sizing one another up. Amy looked at them awkwardly, and said, trying to hide the anger from her voice, "I had tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone wants to know."

Irene ignored Amy and smiled confidently at Sherlock, "Do you know a big problem with your disguise, Mr Holmes?" Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at her and she repiled, "It's always a self-portrait of yourself. In your case, I think you're damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. It's yourself."

Sherlock unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, as the tightness of it was starting to annoy him. Irene leaned forward and said, "Oh, and _somebody _loves you. Why, if _I_ saw a naked woman on top of my man I would be angry myself." Irene glanced at Amy and she forced a laugh. A blush slowly crept up to her cheeks when she realised that Irene was referring to her, which was rubbish. She did _not_ love Sherlock. The idea was stupid. Idiotc. Dumb. Even if she did love him, he was, afterall, married to his work.

Amy glanced down at what she was holding and said, "Could you put something on, please? Er, anything at all. Maybe, a napkin."

Irene smirked and repiled, "Why? Are you feeling exposed? We are both girls, anyway." Sherlock sighed and stood up. He picked up his coat, shook it out and handed it to Irene. Ignoring Sherlock for a moment, Irene stood up and walked closer to Amy, who tried to keep an impassive facial expression through her rage.

Irene turned to Sherlock who was still holding out the coat while steadfastly keeping his gaze averted from her chest area. Irene said as she took the coat from him, "I'm not sure if you know where to look."

Sherlock grunted and said sternly, "If I wanted to look at naked women I would borrow John's laptop." He walked over to the fireplace opposite the sofa. Irene placed the coat on and wrapped it around herself as she said in an amusing tone, "Speaking about John, where is your Robin, Mr Holmes?" She was referring to the news article's nicknames of the three of them.

Amy answered for Sherlock, "I handcuffed him outside." Irene made an 'ooh' noise and repiled, "Miss Pond, I didn't know you were one for kinky things. I know that's not a real policeman outfit, and those were not real handcuffs. So what are you?"

Amy narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across each other, "I'm a kissogram." Irene smiled and said, "So, like me then? Well, at least similar to my job."

Amy clutched her hands into fists as she stood up straight and said angrily, "_Well,_ at least I don't shag practically everyone in London." Irene raised her eyebrows and Sherlock turned around and glared at her, making a 'shh' gesture with his mouth. Amy flurried her eyebrows together as she stared at Sherlock. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _What was she thinking? Sherlock wasn't even her's. She had no right to get angry at him, or Irene. God, she would never have any right to get angry with Sherlock, because he would never be _her's._

Irene said, after a few seconds of silence, "Well, never mind. We've got better things to talk about. Now tell me. I need to know." She walked over to the sofa and sat down, she continued, "How was it done?"

Sherlock frowned, "What?"

Irene took her shoes off and she repiled, "The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?" Sherlock and Amy looked confused as he said, "That's not why I'm here."

Irene looked shocked and shook her head as she said, "No, no, no. You're here for the photographs but that's never going to happen. And since we're here chatting anyway-"

Amy asked in a loud voice, "That story's not been on the news yet. How the hell do you know about it?"

"I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he_ likes."_

Amy muttered an 'oh' and sat beside her, "And you like policemen?"

"I like detective stories. _And _detectives. Brainy's the new sexy." Sherlock muttered something inchoherently. Amy and Irene turned their heads to look at him as he pulled himself together. Sherlock started to pace slowly as he said, "Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That's all you need to know."

Irene repiled as she crossed her arms and legs, "Okay, tell me: How was he murdered?"

"He wasn't."

"You don't think he was murdered?"

"I _know _he wasn't."

"How?"

"The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs I'm looking for are in this room."

"Okay, how?"

"So they are in this room. Thank you. Amy, man the door. Let no-one in."

Amy watched Sherlock and Irene exchange a look, then Amy glared at Sherlock as she got up and placed the bowl and napkin on the table before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Amy sighed. She was so confused with her feelings. Her world was dull, when the Doctor left her, and until she stepped into 221B, she thought life was worthless. Until Sherlock, that is.

The minute they met eyes, the world seemed brighter. Well, because he was Sherlock. _Her_ Sherlock. Well, maybe not anymore. He seemed more cold towards her, and also less willing to interact with her. Amy was annoying. She had been throwing countless hints at him that maybe they could spend some time together, alone. But alas, Sherlock was an idiot who was 'married' to his work and she was left like this. Dying on the inside. As much as Amy hated to admit it, she had to face the truth. Her old feelings for him came back again.

Amy was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Hehe, got this chapter up early. Hope you guys like this one. Here's my links if any of you were wondering.

Fandom Instagram: policeboxed

Personal Instragram: sonicassie

Twitter: SONICOSWALD

Tumblr: weepingdahleks

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Byeee.

Love, Cassie


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own any Sherlock or Doctor Who, characters, objects or locations.

In the hallway, Amy looked around suspiciously, then picked up a magazine from a nearby table and rolled it up. If Irene made out the photos in the camera phone to be that important, and if she had offended numerous important figures in the country, Amy guessed that she would have alot of enemies after her. After her life. Amy sighed and bounched as much as she could on the balls of her black heels. Typical. Irene Alder, the domantrix, appearing naked in front of Sherlock.

It was obvious that Sherlock didn't see it coming, and neither did Amy. She just thought that she was a domantrix during her work hours, not off too. Amy wondered what they were doing inside. Maybe Sherlock was explaining to her how the hiker got killed, even though he seemed clueless during the Skype call.

Or maybe Sherlock was snooping around the room for the camera phone. Amy guessed that it was probably hidden somewhere. Very well too. Looking at how smart Irene was, she would not put it in an ordinary safe. Maybe the safe looked like the wall's colour and material.

Or maybe, even though it's very unlikely, but after all, Sherlock was a man and had his needs too, they were doing the do in there. Amy stepped closer and placed her ear against the door. Nope, no sounds. It was completely silent. She let out a sigh of relief. At least with Rory she didn't have to worry about women chasing after him-

_Rory._

Oh Rory. Amy imagined his soft face smiling at her, or his hand holding her small one. She wasn't this paranoid when she was with him. Maybe it was because Sherlock was an extremly attractive and sexy man, the things he would do to him-

_Amy! Focus! Focus on the plan! Focus on what Sherlock told you to do!_

Amy pressed her ear on the door and heard them still talking. Amy grabbed a lighter from her vest pocket and set fire to the end of the rolled-up magazine. She blew it most of it out and allowed the smoke to drift upwards. Now, Amy waved her hand over the magazine in attempt to try to put it out completely.

Amy heard Sherlock say vaguely through the door, "Amazing how fire exposes our priories." She blew on the magazine hurriedly and continued to fan it, while Sherlock shouted to her outside, "All right Amy, you can turn it off now."

Amy was still trying to put out the smouldering magazine.

"_I said_ you can turn it off now, Amy!"

"Give me a minute, Sherlock!"

Amy started thwacking the magazine on the table, but turned around as she saw three men run down the stairs. The first one raised an enormous pistol, which was so long that he must have been compensating for some other short coming, and fired it up at the smoke alarm, shattering it. Amy slowly backed away from him, getting closer and closer to the door. The beeping stopped.

One of the other men hurried towards Amy, aiming his pistol at her and she instantly raised her hands. She looked at the first man as he walked over and stopped in front of her. She said, "Thanks. For stopping the fire alarm."

Sherlock was standing in front of the code pad, looking closely at it. Irene had remarked a few seconds earlier that she had already told Sherlock the code, which to him, she was lying.

He rubbed his chin slowly as he observed the oil deposite on the keypads. The heaviest was on the first key used, which was the number three, but the rest was impossible to read. It was probably a six-digit number, looking at the make. It couldn't have been her birthday since Irene was clearly born in the eighties and the number eight was hardly used. Sherlock turned around and frowned at her. He only just realised that the fire alarm had stopped making noise and Amy had not come into the room yet, and had not made any noise. He was just about to walk over to the door to check on her when it burst open.

The leader of the group, and also the bulkiest of all of them, came in and aimed a pistol at Sherlock. He said, "Hands behind your head." He nodded to Irene and continued, "On the floor. Keep still."

A second man walked over to Irene and walked her nearer to where Amy who was being bundled in by a third man. Amy weakly muttered, "Sorry, Sherlock." Sherlock looked at her, hoping his concern for her did not show on his face. Her face was pale, and her hair was in a mess. She was biting her lip with her hands behind her head, clearly nervous from her shaking.

_Oh Amy... I'm the one that's sorry..._

As Sherlock raised his hands, the leader looked around to Irene and said, "Miss Alder, on the floor." His colleague shoved her to her knees beside Amy who also was pushed to her knees and was doubled over with a pistol pointed to the back of her neck.

Sherlock said, "Don't you want me on the floor too?"

"No, sir. I want you to open the safe."

Sherlock clocked his accent and replied, "American. Interesting. Why would _you_ care?" He glanced across to Irene as she placed her hands behind her head, and then Amy who was staring at him, but quickly glanced down at the floor when their eyes met.

"Sir, the safe. Now, please."

"I don't know the code."

"We've been listening. She said she told you." _Dammit, Irene..._

"Well, if you've been listening, you'd know she didn't."

"I'm assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I assume you didn't, Mr Holmes."

Amy said while groaning, "For God's sake, she knows the code. Ask her."

The leader turned to her and glared, "Yes, miss. She also knows the code to set off the burglar alarm and call the police. I've learnt not to trust this woman."

Irene murmured, "Mr Holmes doesn't-"

He cut her off, "Shut up. One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, will not be a hardship." Sherlock scowled at him ferociously.

The leader smirked smugly at Sherlock and said loudly, "At the count of three, shoot Miss Pond." Amy lifted her head up slightly and her mouth fell slightly open. Sherlock paled and whispered, "I don't have the code." _Amy Amy Amy Amy. _

Sherlock watched as Amy cowered down as the second man pressed the muzzle of his pistol into the back of her neck and cocks the gun. _Amy Amy Amy Amy Amy_

The leader started counting down, "One." _Amy Amy Amy Amy_

Sherlock said softly, "I don't know the code." Amy was looking at him in fear now, she trusted him to work the code out but _he didn't. Amy Amy Amy Amy_

"Two."

Sherlock started raising his voice, "She didn't tell me. I don't know it!"

"I'm prepared to believe you any second now, Mr Holmes." Sherlock looked over to Irene whose gaze was lowered downwards. He glanced at Amy again, and there was sadness in her eyes. She shook her head, and his eyes travelled to her neck, and he noticed it.

The necklace. The necklace he gave her.

All of a sudden, everything was in slow motion. Time seemed to wrap around itself. The same teardrop glass necklace he gave her. It was peeking out at the top of her shirt. He hadn't noticed it at first, but now that he was looking at her properly he did.

He also saw the lines around her eyes, the slight eye bags. He forgot she was a traveller, a time traveller. She must have seen so much death when she was travelling. That was why she wasn't afraid. She had come so close to it before, so close that she was ready to welcome it like an old friend.

Amy had waited for The Doctor. She had waited for him. But now, it was time for him to wait for her. He was hoping she would catch the hint from the necklace, about his feelings. A teardrop. There was always a reason it was a teardrop. All of a sudden, memories of him and her flooded his mind. The time when they first met. The time when their hands bumped together and Amy actually held his, and the last day.

_Ah dammit._ He was in love with Amelia Pond.

"Three."

Sherlock returned back to normal time and shouted, "No! Stop!"

The leader held up his free hand to stop the second man. Sherlock watched as Amy closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.

A chemical effect, a dangerous weakness.


End file.
